CSI - Colorado Springs: Murder by Death
by Abydosorphan
Summary: AU where Sam and Jack are either CSI's or detectives.
1. Chapter 1

The sound of a beeper going off woke Jack O'Neill out of a sound sleep. The blonde head pillowed on his chest moved and snuggled closer, but showed no sign of fully awakening. For a moment he considered ignoring the beeper and snuggling back down, going back to sleep, and maybe waking her up later for better reasons than whatever his captain had in store for him.

That was, until her beeper went off.

This time her head rose from his chest, her smiling eyes searching his out before turning into a frown.

"I thought we were both supposed to be due for a full weekend off?"

Jack laughed, the rumble of his chest causing her to bounce. "Still glad you transferred over from nights?"

"Oh, god, yes." She kissed his chest lightly. "We never got to spend time together like this when we were on different shifts."

"True." He leaned down to kiss her, her sigh as they parted making him wrap his arms around her just a bit tighter. "Guess we should call in, huh, Carter?"

"I guess so. Might as well see what wonderful events everyone else's Friday night culminated into."

Jack moved so that he was leaning against the headboard and waited until Samantha was out of bed and had retrieved her cell phone from her purse before he picked up the handset for his phone and dialed the number for the precinct.

"What's up, Hammond?"

He listened while George went through the basic details of the case, quickly getting out of bed and throwing on clothes once he realized there was no way he was going to get out of this.

"Just for the record, we do know this is my day off, right?"

"Yes, Jack," Hammond droned on, "I realize that today is your scheduled day off and I'm sure there is a lot that you would rather be doing."

"You better believe it." He muttered, glancing toward the bathroom door as Samantha emerged and closed her cell phone quietly. "I'll be there ASAP. Let Murray know." He clicked the talk button to end the conversation and flopped the phone on the bed.

"Double homicide over on North Hancock." Samantha stated as she grabbed a brush and swept her hair up into a loose pony tail.

"Same here." He leaned over and kissed her gently on the neck. "You know, we _could_ ride over together..."

She turned, her arms threading their way around his neck. "I'd love to, but that would only complicate things."

"They're not complicated already?"

Samantha slapped his arm. "You know what I mean. If I ride in with you then I'd have to catch a ride to the lab with Daniel or Janet and then later I'd need to either wait around for you or have someone drive me here so I could get my car."

Jack smiled, "At least you're keeping some spare clothes here now. You look much sexier collecting evidence in something I didn't strip you out of the night before."

The comment earned him another slap, this one harder, while her other hand grabbing her jacket and purse. "We need to go, Jack."

Grabbing her in for a quick kiss, Jack whispered, "You know the bodies will still be there when we get there, Sam, they're not going anywhere."

* * *

The drive across town to _La Petit Maison_ went quickly for Sam, though the rides to most of the more central 'Springs locations usually did go more quickly from Jack's house than from her own. Pulling up outside the restaurant, she saw Detectives O'Neill and Teal'c questioning some of the late night staff, while Sheppard and Mitchell secured the crime scene.

"You got here pretty quick tonight, Sam." Mitchell quipped with a smug smile as she walked by with her kit and joined Daniel over where the bodies lay.

She shrugged him off with a roll of her eyes and pulled her camera out of its case. "Get any pictures yet, Daniel?"

"Not yet; haven't quite had the stomach to pull the camera out yet." He smiled sadly in her direction. Sam loved him like a brother and they had worked together for years, but there were days when she wondered if he was really cut out for this job. Then, again, there were days she wondered if anyone really was.

She flashed several pictures before kneeling down next to the body of a woman approximately her own age. There was one thing to be said about this job, it never let you take your own mortality for granted.

"Two victims. She's on the sidewalk, a foot from the curb and he's in the middle of the street." Daniel's face frowned slightly as he stated the plainly obvious.

Standing from her position on the sidewalk, beside the woman, Sam moved to stand in the space between the two bodies. "Something's missing here. Where's the car?"

Daniel shrugged as he stood from his position next to the body of the man in the street. "Not sure. I'm assuming it wasn't here when Cam and John got to the scene. Neither one of them is stupid enough to move it."

Sam's lips pressed together in a thin line. "Well, it's a possible motive; though most carjackers don't slit their victims' throats right off."

"This guy's been stabbed at least five times. I collected some reddish hair off the body. His hair is brown."

Jack and Murray approached them and Sam gave them each a sad smile in greeting.

"So, what do we got, campers?" O'Neill quipped.

"The couple appears to have had dinner at _La Petite Maison_. The new coroner's assistant, a Doctor Carolyn Lam, has the male victim's wallet with the credit card receipt." Murray Teal'c, Jack's partner, added helpfully.

Jack knelt down over the male victim's body. "Poor, cheap bastard, didn't bother to valet. It saved him five bucks and cost both of them their lives." He paused as he cast a glance in the woman's direction. "Think it's a carjacking gone bad?"

"Carjackers do not typically use knives, O'Neill."

Jack raised his eyebrow and winked quickly at Sam. "You should know by now that I never rule out an option simply because it's not the _typical_ answer, Murray."

Sam smiled shyly, looking away from Jack and the others and turning back to the bodies lying on the pavement before her. She'd wanted to come to this restaurant for a while, now it just seemed like another of the many crime scenes she'd visited. A drip fell into the pool of blood beside the woman's body and Sam sighed as she felt another land on her shoulder.

"Oh, hell." The last thing she needed tonight was to have to process a crime scene in the rain. "Come on, Daniel, there's no telling how long we have until the skies really open and every bit of evidence we haven't already collected gets washed into the gutters."

Jack stood there shaking his head. "Where the hell is Fraiser with the truck, anyway?"

Murray popped open an umbrella before responding. "Doctor Lam mentioned that she was processing another crime scene, but would be along momentarily."

By the time Janet arrived Sam had packed away her camera and the rest of the scene had been processed the best that was possible given the rushed circumstances they were working under. Each increasing drop of rain washed away what could be another vital piece of evidence; hair fibers, blood traces, possible footprints.

Janet and Carolyn, her assistant, approached the scene in a flurry of gurneys and body bags. "Sorry, got held up over on Mesa."

"At least you got here before the real rain hits, Doc." O'Neill added as he grabbed the body bag from Carolyn's hands and moved to assist her and Daniel with the preparation of the body.

Janet paused for a moment as they moved away. "Guess he's not too happy about the interruption to his nice weekend off, huh?"

Sam raised an eyebrow and tried not to blush. "Wouldn't you be? We get little enough private time as it is." Sam grabbed another body bag out of the truck and moved toward the woman on the side walk. Janet followed, as did Murray, and the rest of the loading went on in silence.

Once the bodies had been successfully loaded, Jack slammed the back door shut as Janet and Carolyn took their seats and the van started off. Sam ran a hand through her rain soaked hair, thankful that they'd been able to collect as much as they had before the brief downpour had occurred. Now, the rain was more of a steady drizzle, still annoying and possibly compromising to the crime scene, but not nearly as disastrous as it could be. Sighing once again, she turned back around and took her flashlight from her kit before walking by Jack to meet up with Daniel and see what, if anything else, they could salvage from the scene.

Tilting her flashlight along the sidewalk Sam walked up the street away from the restaurant and away from where the body of the woman had been found. Walking a few feet, Sam knelt down and picked up a cigarette butt between the tongs of her tweezers. "I guess we can't do much more than hope that the rain wouldn't have screwed up all of our chances at getting a decent DNA profile."

Daniel walked by and she was slipping it into an evidence bag. "Not sure I would even bother. You'll just waste your time processing it." As he walked away to see what else he might be able to find Sam shrugged her shoulders. "At least it's my time to waste."

* * *

Jack O'Neill was not having a good night. Being pulled out of his comfortable bed – on his night off – to have to come to a crime scene was one thing. Getting pulled out of said bed that had previously been inhabited by not only himself; but also Samantha Carter was a completely different level of wrong. Having his crime scene washed away by a momentary down pour did not top this evening off well.

"So, guys, do we have any witnesses at all?"

"It's a fairly quiet street, sir. It's Thursday, they're not all that busy unless it's a weekend. A few of the locals heard a commotion, but mostly non-descript stuff." Sheppard filled him in.

"We do have one kid that claims he got a bit of a view, sir. Says he tried to help the vic out after he was hit by a car." Cameron Mitchell stated as he leaned against the hood of his patrol car.

Jack's gaze followed the nod of Cameron's head to the figure of a young man sitting on the curb. "Guess I better go have a little chat with our 'witness', then."

Moving away from the two patrolmen Jack didn't stop until he came to stand right in front of the man. "What's your name, son?"

"Narim, Narim Simons." The man replied as he stood from his spot on the curb.

"Well, Narim. I'm Detective Jack O'Neill." Jack shined his flashlight over Narim's soaked clothing. "Is, uh, that your blood?"

"No. It's… it's his. The guy you took away. I tried to help him. I thought I was doing everything correctly. I should have known better than to interfere, but I thought I could help. Instead, I think I killed him."

Jack never liked it when stories started out this way. "What exactly did you do?"

"I was crossing the street, heading into town to get my girlfriend a present for her birthday, this SVU came outta no where. He almost clipped me. When I turned around I saw the body in the street. I freaked. I didn't remember anything. I didn't tilt his head, didn't clear his airway. I'm sure I wasn't compressing the right part of his chest…."

Jack shook his head, the kid was a mess. "If it makes you feel any better, that is not what killed the guy. Even if you had done all of that chances are he still would have bled out." He motioned for Sam to come over with a new collection kit. "Narim, I'm going to need Ms. Carter here to collect your jacket and the rest of your clothes most likely too."

"Why?"

Sam gave a reassuring smile and placed a hand on the man's arm. "Because they're covered in blood."

Narim looked down, as if in shock, before going mutely with Sam.

* * *

Rodney McKay was sitting at the table in his lab, staring through his microscope. The last thing Daniel wanted to do tonight was go into that room and have to deal with that man. But if he wanted to do his job there was no way he was going to be able to get around it.

"Hey, Rodney, how are you?"

Rodney held up his hand, as if asking for silence. "Shhhh. I'm looking at the future mother of my children here."

Daniel shook his head as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves. "Okay, if you ask me, that's beyond the first sign that someone's been putting in way too much overtime."

Rodney spun around on his lab stool. "This is serious. She's perfect. She's got the most _impossible_ blue eyes, just… BAM! Shoulder-length blonde hair… intelligent… and she smells _so_ amazing."

Daniel listened to the description, the sinking feeling in his stomach turning into a churning detest. "Really."

Rodney spun back to his microscope, a rather self-satisfied grin on his face. "Yes. But you know, it's what's on the inside that's really important to me. That's what I really need to know."

"So, you're interested about what's in her heart?"

"No ... her DNA ... and let me tell you - she has got some fine epithelials."

Daniel took a full second to wonder whether or not the sandwich he'd grabbed earlier was about to make a repeat appearance. "That's just… that's _sick_. You have officially lost it." Daniel grabbed the slide prep kick and moved about the lab prepping the slide he would need. He wanted to get the hair that they'd found at the scene analyzed as soon as possible so that he could leave.

"No, no, no. The people that charge loads of money to test your spouse's underwear for foreign DNA, those are the people that are sick. Me… I'm a romantic. And someday… someday Sam will-"

"Okay, no. I've totally heard enough." Daniel was seriously tempted to pull a Jack and put his fingers in his ears and hum, loudly.

Daniel opened the evidence bag containing the hair sample and placed it on the slide he'd prepared. Rodney noticed his movements and looked over.

"What are you doing? What have you got there?"

"We got some hair off of our male stabbing vic, a Mr. Tomin Doran."

Rodney took the slide out of Daniel's hand and exchanged it with the slide that apparently contained Sam's skin cells. "Okay, baby. What do we have here?"

"What?"

"Nine lives. The one true friend a person can have."

Daniel blinked, afraid of where Rodney might go with this. "Wait. You mean that's cat hair?"

Rodney nodded.

"Damn." Daniel shook his head and, finally, left the lab. He had been hoping that the hair would be from the killer. Now it would probably end up that the Doran's owned a cat. Or that a stray had come up to them at some point and just been extremely friendly.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam walked down the main hallway that lead to the morgue, only slightly shocked when she saw Jack standing outside the set of double doors waiting for her.

"Detective O'Neill." She smiled, as casually as she could manage, in greeting.

Jack took a step toward her, his hands moving to the front pockets of his pants as he rocked up on the balls of his feet. "Quite formal tonight, aren't we _Ms._ Carter?"

She rolled her eyes. He knew quite well she was usually much more formal when they encountered each other on a case. It was one of the ways to put a bit of distance between them, to keep propriety in order so that nothing became suspect about their work. Still, this was supposed to be their extended weekend together.

"Jack." Her voice was hushed; something that she hoped would be a clear indication that this was not the time or the place to have this conversation.

"Carter?"

"Not here, Jack." She moved closer to the doors as he stepped up and caught her elbow, quietly whispering in her ear.

"This would be so much easier and hassle-free if you'd just move in with me."

Her eyes closed and she sighed. He was right and she knew it. Their relationship would be so much nicer if they could each look forward to going home to the other every night. But there were so many other things that they needed to consider and that wasn't even touching on the subject of her father.

Turning her head, she gave a small smile. "We'll talk later, okay?"

Jack squeezed her arm in reply. "Guess we should see what Fraiser has for us, huh?"

Sam placed her left hand over his at her elbow, squeezing briefly before she nodded her head and walked through the double doors.

Janet Fraiser stood in the center of the morgue, all five-foot-two-inches of her, and if you asked Jack or anyone else that had been patched up by the fine doctor at a crime scene, there was a reason the woman dealt mostly with the dead. As far as Sam was concerned, they were kindred spirits and the best of friends.

"I was wondering when you two would finally get here." Janet said, breaking the silence in the otherwise silent room, her voice echoing slightly off the metal vaults.

"Sorry, Doc, got held up a bit."

The smile that Janet flashed Sam told her that she knew Jack was full of shit and had probably heard the majority of their conversation through the doors. Putting down her pen she moved across the room and joined them between the two gurneys.

"Tomin Doran. A total of six stab wounds to the upper torso – one to the back, five to the front."

"And his wife?"

Janet moved over to stand at the head of the gurney. "Adria Doran. One slice across the neck, right to left."

"The attacker was left handed?" Sam asked.

"Well, the blade transected the jugular vein and both carotids."

"It's hard to scream when your throat's been cut." Jack leaned over the body, being careful not to touch anything. "No defensive wounds?"

"No, none at all. Indicating that either she was attacked first and taken completely by surprise…"

"Or she knew her attacker and didn't feel threatened." Sam chimed in as she moved back over to look at the form of the man beside her. "Her husband has defensive wounds."

"Yeah, _he_ put up one hell of a fight. He was attacked with two different weapons." Janet said moving back to pick up the clipboard and review her notes.

"Two?" Jack hated it when things that seemed fairly simple got complicated, and Sam could easily follow his thoughts. Multiple weapons typically indicated multiple attackers.

"Indications point to that, yes. We have two different types of stab wounds. First a long, sharp double-edged blade. The blade went in nice and smooth…" Janet raised her hands and made a stabbing downward motion, "…it left a little collateral bruising to the skin. Weapon number two was blunt." This time she raised both hands and made a downward stabbing motion. "Weapon number two caused extensive bruising around the points of entry." Using her pinky finger Janet pointed out the damage to both of them.

Jack stepped back and looked at Sam and sighed, "Just what we need, two weapons – two attackers."

* * *

Sam's finger's drummed the pen against her desk in a steady beat as she read over the reports that had come in during the few hours that she'd run home, slept, showered, and dressed to come back to the office. She'd never managed to meet up with Jack after they'd left the morgue and now that she was back at her desk she was wondering if maybe she should have just gone to his house when she left. Of course, there was no guaranteeing that he had even gone home at all last night.

"So, Carter, what have you learned?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice, the fact that he always managed to pop up when she was thinking about him always managed to surprise and unnerve her. Her fingers ceased their movements and she ran a hand through her hair before meeting his eyes. Watching as he balanced himself on the corner of the desk across from hers.

"Tobin Doran, chiropractor. Adria Doran, lawyer. They have a house in Cascade. Married eight years – were probably even out for their anniversary. Perfect credit. Absolutely nothing that jumps off the page about them, I'm at a loss."

Sam leaned over and handed the file she'd prepared over to Jack, noticing how he tried to casually glance down her shirt as she did so. If they were anywhere else she probably would have hit him for it. Here it would draw more attention than just rolling her eyes and letting him get away with it. Besides, they would probably have to chat about several things later anyway, she might as well just add that to the list.

"What about the eyewitness?"

"That's Daniel's department." She nodded over toward Daniel's desk where he currently had his head stuffed into a book.

"Daniel!"

Watching the other man jump in surprise really shouldn't have been as amusing to her as it was, but it happened every time.

"Jack?"

"What information do you have for me on our eyewitness?"

"Um… Narim Simons. First witness, first suspect. But, Jack, he hung around. He was waiting for us."

"Yes, he was. He was also covered in blood, Dannyboy."

"But his story jibes. Several eyewitness saw him performing CPR on Tobin Doran. But if… if… **if** it is a carjacking, I don't get it. Why fight to the death? It's nothing but four wheels and a chassis."

Sam smiled watching the exchange, there was something about the way Daniel retained his innocence – no matter how much they encountered – that was truly endearing about the man and Jack had a way of interacting with him that few could rival.

"In the heat of the moment, Daniel, it's not a car, it's a possession and people will fight without realizing what they're risking. It's all a part of fight or flight." His hand waved back and forth between Sam and Daniel, "I thought you guys were supposed to know this stuff. Someone hasn't been paying enough attention to Heightmeyer's chats about criminal tendencies."

Sam smiled and rolled her eyes, "So, you are thinking the Dorans lost their lives for their SUV?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders, "I'm speaking in generalities. Regarding the Dorans ... I'm in the dark, just like you." Clapping his hands together, Jack slid off the desk and stood up, stretching his back slightly as he did so. "Now, if you'll both excuse me, I have some very important detective work to get to."

The soft snort that came from Daniel's direction only helped to widen the smile that crossed Sam's features. "Don't hurt yourself, Jack."

* * *

Sam had spent the majority of her day going through the Dorans' house, looking for anything that might draw her eye or make things seem just the slightest bit out of place. Detective Teal'c had accompanied her to their residence and while she loved the quiet concentration that his presence allowed her, she had almost hoped that Jack would have been there.

She knew that he was only partially kidding when he cracked jokes about the two of them living together, and last night's conversation outside the morgue had only driven that home. They both resented the fact that they only had a limited amount of time together in any one stretch because of their jobs, but neither of them was willing to give up their jobs, and she had already moved over from the night shift so that the majority of her work, like his, was done during more 'normal' hours.

They needed to talk, they needed to sit down and sort things out and come to some sort of arrangement or agreement that would address all of their concerns – or at least most of them. And while the home of a couple murdered on their wedding anniversary might not have been the ideal location for them to discuss these things, it would have at least accomplished the sooner rather than later bit of her concerns. The Doran house seemed to be in order, nothing appeared to be missing or disturbed and there was nothing to indicate that anything amiss had occurred there. The one interesting bit of information that Sam had obtained while going through the house, was that the Dorans did not have any pets and there was no indications that they even fed an outdoor cat. So, maybe, those hairs that Daniel had discovered on Tomin's clothes were relevant after all.

Sam finished logging her report and shut down her computer. Today had been long and exhausting, she'd barely even run into Jack, and she really was no further along on her case than she had been when she walked in that morning. Grabbing her purse she slung it over her shoulder and headed out the door. Tonight was a night for a long, hot bath and a good dinner. Maybe she'd even crack open a bottle of wine.

" _Ms._ Carter."

The sound of his voice alone was enough to bring a small smile to her face and stop her in her tracks as she was about to go through the last door to the building. Instead, she turned and leaned up against the door. "Detective O'Neill."

Jack took a step toward her, moving out from the alcove he had been waiting in for who knew how long. "I was hoping you might be able to spare some time this evening, so that we could discuss our case."

Sam watched as Walter tried to make himself look busy at his computer behind the sign-in desk, but she knew that the office scuttlebutt surrounding her and Jack was about to take another plunge. Hell, the man was probably Instant Messaging with Siler or Felger or _someone_ right at this very moment. Maybe she should have listened to her brother and moved out to San Diego, at least then she wouldn't be working in a department where her father was Commissioner.

"Of course, would you like me to grab the file from my desk?"

Jack linked his arm with hers and turned her back toward the front door to the building, "Actually, I was thinking we could revisit the scene of the crime."

The door shut behind them and they were halfway down the steps before she stopped him, "Jack?"

"What?"

"You want to go to _La Petite Maison_? On a Saturday night? We'll never get in."

"Ah, see, now, that was _before_ they became a crime scene and needed every last resource of the police department to prove that they were indeed a safe place and weren't the latest target for random carjackers. We have reservations."

Sam seriously considered saying no… for all of thirty seconds. She _had_ always wanted to go there, and if it gave her and Jack the chance to talk that she'd been hoping for, even better.

"I'll have to stop by my house and change."

"That can be arranged."

* * *

If there was one thing Samantha Carter loved almost as much as her job it was watching Jack O'Neill's jaw drop. The reason for the reaction really didn't matter, the fact that it was currently on the floor because he apparently _really_ liked her choice in attire for their dinner date only helped make her appreciate the occurrence even more.

"You like?"

"Huh?" Jack snapped his mouth shut and licked his lips. "You look… wow… you look amazing."

Sam smiled, thankful that for once she had listened to Janet and her daughter, Cassie, when they'd all gone shopping. At the time she'd bought the dress she really didn't think that she'd have much use for it, but the mother/daughter duo had assured her that something was bound to come up and that it simply looked too good to pass up.

Linking her arm with his, she moved off of her front porch and down toward his truck. "Ready for dinner?"

Jack's eyes generously roamed the length of her body before he opened the passenger door to his truck and placed his hands on her hips to help her into the seat. "If I survive tonight, I think I'll be up for anything."

The ride to the restaurant went quickly and Sam felt the familiar curl of tension form in her stomach when Jack placed his hand on the small of her back to lead her to their table – thanks to the design of her dress which allowed Jack's hand to rest on bare skin as he did so. They were seated at a nice romantic table for two and Sam picked up her menu. After all the hype around this place she hoped that it lived up to her expectations.

"Sammy?"

Sam's eyes shut as she slowly exhaled. She was the butt of some cosmic joke and she really wanted to know why.

"Dad?"

Moving her menu aside she forced a smile for her father, noticing how Jack's eyes were wider than usual as they ping-ponged back and forth between both of them.

"Sammy, I thought that was you." Her father moved closer to the table, dressed in a nice suit. Sam stood up, leaning forward to kiss her father on the cheek.

"It's good to see you, Dad."

"It's good to see you, too, Sammy, though I must say I'm seeing a bit more of you than I'm used to."

Sam gave an audible sigh, "Dad, you know how I hate that nickname."

Stepping back she indicated Jack with the swoop of her hand. "I believe you know Detective Jack O'Neill from the homicide unit."

Jack stood, quickly extending his hand, "Commissioner Carter."

Sam watched as her father's eyes narrowed as he took Jack's hand. If he so much as started on a lecture about age – which she was more than too old to put up with at this point – she was going to scream, but she could almost watch him counting Jack's grey hairs and trying to do the math. She might even be forced to remind him that Jack still _had_ all of his hair, even though that would be a sure guarantee of her night being shot to hell – if it hadn't been already.

"Ah, yes, Jack O'Neill. I believe we met at last year's Policemen's Ball. I believe that you were looking for your date at the time."

Sam didn't miss the look that Jack cast in her direction before answering, he knew just as well as she did that her father was trying to bait them.

"That's right, sir, I was."

"Did you ever find her?"

Jack took his hand back and smirked, "Yes, sir, I did. She sometimes slips away from me but she's fairly easy to spot even in the most crowded of rooms."

Sam clenched her hands behind her back, before running them down the sides of her dress. "So, Dad, what brings you here this evening? Last I knew you didn't like French cuisine."

She watched as her father drew back a step. "You're right, I don't. However; Selina has always wanted to come here… and the waiting list for reservations suddenly freed up, so I figured I would take the opportunity and get the experience over with. Luckily, they also serve some steaks, so I won't have to go hungry. You?"

Sam smiled, "I would guess about the same. It appears Selina and I have a bit in common there."

Jacob actually shot Jack a semi-sympathetic look, before Sam heard Selina come up behind him. "Jacob, darling, I've been wondering where you wandered off to. Our table is ready." The woman came around and linked her arm with Jacob's before examining the table he stood next to. "Samantha? Is that you? It's _so_ good to see you."

"It's good to see you too, Selina." And it was. Regardless, or perhaps because of, the rift that had developed between Sam and her father after her mother's death, she really liked Selina Saroosh, the woman he'd been dating for the last six to seven months. In that time, Selina seemed to be making a concentrated effort to try and have Jacob mend old fences and become closer with his children. It was a slow moving effort, but one that seemed to be paying off. "I don't believe you've met Detective Jack O'Neill."

Selina eyed Jack up and down appreciatively as she took his hand and then cast Sam an approving wink. "It's a pleasure."

"Same here, ma'am."

"Sam, how long have you been keeping him all to yourself? He's simply darling."

Sam blushed as the woman picked up on so much more than she could possibly have known, and Jacob cast a curious look all around the table.

"Anyway, Sel, I believe you said our table was ready?"

"Oh, yes. See, you later, Samantha."

"It was good seeing you both," Sam forced a smile as she and Jack returned to their seats.

Jacob leaned over, kissing her briefly on the cheek before whispering, "We'll talk later," into her ear.

Her eyes closed, her forehead resting on her hands before she opened her eyes and met Jack's amused stare.

"You never told your father about us?"

She fiddled with the napkin in her lap before even thinking to respond. "It's been a delicate road with the two of us. And it never really seemed like an appropriate time to come out with the fact that I'd been seeing someone for almost two years and never bothered to inform him."

"Guess the cat's out of the bag, now, huh?"

Smiling, Sam reached across the table and rested her hand on top of his, "I would say so."

"So, would this be a bad time to continue that little topic I mentioned last night?"

Sam squeezed his hand, "Actually, I think now would be the perfect time."


End file.
